


Actual Children

by LadyArtemis13



Series: Peter Parker: Cinnamon Roll Tattoo Artist [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Adult Peter Parker, Age Appropriate Starker, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Artist Peter Parker, Everybody Ships It, M/M, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Peter Loves All The Animals, Pierced Peter Parker, Someone Please Get Peter Out Of That Apartment, Tattoo Artist Peter Parker, Tattooed Peter Parker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-06-26 22:35:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19777858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyArtemis13/pseuds/LadyArtemis13
Summary: A look into Peter's average morning and day at work.AKA Peter’s employees give him headaches but it's okay. It's all done with love.





	Actual Children

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, so, I'm late. Sorry about that but it's out now! I hope you guys enjoy Peter's employees as much as I do because I am already very attached to them and their pets.  
> Also, you'll notice that all of his employees are younger than him by a good few years. I did this because, as much as I love Peter being the youngest in the room, I wanted to explore a dynamic where he's, well, the oldest in the room.

Peter rolled over and tried to ignore the Queen blaring from somewhere near his head. Unfortunately, they would not be ignored. He fumbled blindly for his phone and managed to cut it off just before the first _I want to break free_.

“Not right now, Freddie,” he mumbled, running a tattooed hand through his tangled curls. He sat up with a yawn, throwing his phone down somewhere beside him knowing good and well he’d have to dig it out of the blankets later. He shivered as his feet hit the cold floor and made his way from his small bedroom to the tiny bathroom.

One quick and lukewarm shower later he was standing in front of his closet with only a towel wrapped around his waist. He pulled on a pair of well-worn jeans and a slightly faded AC/DC t-shirt that he had ‘borrowed’ from Tony. He moved to the small jewelry box sitting on the dresser and started to put in his earrings, purposely ignoring the way he enjoyed the faint scent of coffee and expensive cologne that still clung to the shirt. Peter slipped on his rings and bracelets before making his way to the kitchen.

“Morning, Mickey,” he waved in the general direction of the small hole in the living room wall where he knew a fat brown rat lived. He rarely saw Mickey himself and never saw evidence that he lived with him. Really, if he didn’t hear him in the wall sometimes, he wouldn’t even know the rat was still there. 

Peter pulled open the top freezer section of his ancient fridge and grabbed the box of waffles. He tossed a couple into his cheap toaster and made his way back to his room to slip on his Doc Martens and rescue his phone from the depths of his gray comforter.

“You’d think a bright red case would make it easier to find,” he said to himself.

He finally found it just as he heard the toaster ding. He left the blankets in an unmade mess and went to gather his keys and wallet. Not five minutes later he was out the door, wallet in his pocket, keys and phone in one hand, one waffle in the other, and one waffle hanging out of his mouth.

It didn’t take him long at all to reach the shop, despite the normal heavy New York foot traffic. Peter hopped down the small stone staircase that lead to _Spider’s Parlor Tattoos and Piercings._ He smiled to himself as he unlocked the bright blue door. It might have taken most of his savings and a loan from the bank, but he was proud to own his own shop.

Besides, just a couple more months and he’d have that loan paid off.

Peter hadn’t been inside for thirty minutes, Fleetwood Mac now playing softly in the background, when he heard the front door open as a familiar figure came in.

Monique Kennedy was Peter’s oldest employee, both in the sense that she was his first and she was the second oldest person in the shop, still putting her at about seven years his junior. Monique was tall for a woman and leanly muscled from the kickboxing classes she took religiously. She had a beautiful chocolate complexion, covered in various brightly colored tattoos, and long black dreadlocks.

“Morning, Boss,” she called, heading directly to the backroom to set down her bright yellow purse and get to work. Monique was one of the three tattoo artists at _Spider’s Parlor_ , including Peter himself, and he knew she had an ocean themed half-sleeve that she had been excited to start designing.

“Good morning, Mo,” he called back from the front counter where he was checking the appointments for the day, noticing absently that she had changed her usual silver septum ring for a gold one. He had about an hour before his first client and Monique was technically free until that afternoon unless they had any walk-ins. That just left-

The front door opened again as another familiar face walked in.

“Hola, Boss,” came a lightly accented voice as the owner waved a muscled arm covered in black and white tattoos.

That just left Diego. Diego Fuentes was the third tattoo artist at _Spider’s Parlor._ He was a tall man around Monique's age with a dark undercut and permanent it-looks-like-I-just-haven’t-shaved-for-three-days beard. He headed over towards his station to get ready for the day, mindlessly playing with the heavy cross that hung around his neck.

“Good morning, Diego,” Peter called, noting that he had a client coming in around the same time as his own.

“Hola, hermana. Cómo estás, yeah? How’s your morning been?” he asked Monique.

“Not too bad,” she said, looking up form her drawing pad. “Bandit stole another bracelet.”

That made them both laugh even as Peter felt the accusing stare aimed in his direction. [Bandit](https://www.google.com/search?q=ferret&rlz=1C1CHBD_enUS720US720&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwjdr87jkq_jAhUGWs0KHQODCM0Q_AUIECgB&biw=1600&bih=789#imgrc=Pvfmk-ZzBmA5dM) was the young ferret that he had convinced Monique to get about a year ago. Aptly named, he had a penchant for taking anything shiny that happened to catch his eye. That included most jewelry, as Peter had learned when he first held the little guy and he tried to steal a ring right off his finger.

Peter held his hands up in surrender as he turned in their direction. “Hey, I didn’t teach him to steal. He came with those skills pre-programmed.”

Diego pointed one tattooed finger at him. “Ah, but you are the one that convinced her to adopt the little ladrón.”

“And I still don’t know how,” Monique marveled. “You only went into the animal shelter to drop off that bag of food that the twins didn’t like.” She gestured at Diego as she mentioned his cats that, for some reason, didn’t like fish.

They often referred to the two black and white cats, [Merry and Pippin](https://www.google.com/search?rlz=1C1CHBD_enUS720US720&biw=1600&bih=789&tbm=isch&sa=1&ei=fV0oXa6yGY-7tQbhzpLIAw&q=black+and+white+cats&oq=black+and+white+cats&gs_l=img.3..35i39j0l9.37144.39225..39302...0.0..0.111.1764.16j3......0....1..gws-wiz-img.......0i67.dbYq3z1Lwts#imgrc=9qAq1pPHVyAZkM:), as ‘the twins’ because they did everything together, bickering or not. If one was laying on the back of the couch, so was the other. If one was chasing a fly around the house, so was the other, trying his best to catch it first.

“Next thing I know,” she continued, “Boss calls and I’m going down there to adopt a ferret.” She still sounded completely baffled by the events that had transpired a year ago and Diego could sympathize.

“There is no fighting it,” he said. “I mean, that’s how I got Merry and Pippin in the first place. He can’t have animals in that terrible apartment of his, so we get them instead.”

“All animals need love,” Peter reminded them. “And my apartment is fine.”

“Your persuasion skills when concerning animals are truly impressive,” Monique said seriously. “And no, it’s not.”

Diego nodded in agreement. “You should really move out.”

Peter rolled his eyes, completely done with this line of conversation. Again. “Look, I’ve almost got the loan I took out for the shop paid back. When that happens, I can start saving up more money again and maybe I’ll look at getting another place. One that allows animals.”

“I thought Stark didn’t want animals in Avengers Tower?” Diego asked curiously. Peter stuttered for a second as he tried to figure out what to say, but Monique spoke up before he could.

She leaned over to lightly slap Diego on the shoulder. “Hey, we’re still doing that thing where we never explicitly say that we know about his side job, remember?”

He nodded sheepishly. “Ah, sí. Lo siento, Boss.” Again, before he could think of a response, Peter was interrupted, this time by the front door opening as his third and last employee came rolling in on Heelys.

“Hiya, Chief,” she said with a bright smile. Sara Jenkins was the baby of _Spider’s Parlor_. Having just turned twenty-one last month, she was nearly eleven years Peter’s junior and the only other piercer in the shop. Sara rolled to a stop in front of him and ran a caramel hand through her messy pastel pink mohawk.

He ignored her greeting as he stared down at the black and pink monstrosities on her feet. The silence stretched on as he stared. He could hear Monique and Diego stifling their laughter at Sara’s latest antics.

“Why?” he asked. “Just, why?”

Sara dropped the hand that was holding the strap of her miniature backpack and planted both fists on her thin hips. “I,” she began grandly, “am now travelling in utmost style.”

Her declaration made the other two absolute children he called employees break as their delighted laughter rang out. Peter just shook his head as he looked down at the tiny girl standing in front of him.

“Is that what you’re calling it?” he asked with a resigned sigh.

She wiggled her finely plucked eyebrows, a silver barbell glinting on one. “I call it like I see it. This, this is it, Chief.” She rolled over to the front counter and set down her backpack. “So, what are we talking about today?”

It was Monique that answered, still smiling at Sara’s new shoes. “How the Boss needs to find a new place to live.”

“Again,” Diego added.

“Oh, cool,” Sara beamed. She rolled her way back to Peter, gripping his shoulders in excitement. “Hey, if you move into the tower does that mean we get to meet the Avengers?”

“Sara!”

Her eyes lit up in almost unholy glee. “Wait, no. New question. If you move into the tower are you getting your own room or sharing Stark’s?”

“Sara!” he admonished, cheeks warm and undoubtedly red. He ignored Diego’s chuckling and Monique’s cooing.

“Come on Chief, I’ve got thirty bucks riding on that particular bet.”

That made him level all three of them with a stern look. “I thought I told you guys no more betting after the poker game incident?”

Sara threw her hands up in disbelief. “You were the one cheating!”

“I was not!” Peter denied, knowing full well he was lying.

Monique snorted. “Yeah, right. Boss, we all know you can count cards.”

“That doesn’t mean I was doing it,” he said defensively, crossing his arms.

“Guys, guys, guys,” Diego called. “Let’s be honest here. We were all cheating, sí?” There was a general murmur of agreement, even from Peter.

“True. At least poker went better than the UNO game.” Peter shook his head as he remembered that fiasco while Diego and Monique nodded in agreement.

Sara’s face went completely serious. “That was a dark time,” she intoned before suddenly brightening back up into the sunny disposition they all knew. “Anyway, which is it gonna be? Is IronSpider real? Also, does this mean we’re done not mentioning your fursona?”

“Sara!” he cried again.

Her face grew thoughtful. “Or is it bugsona?”

Peter ignored the nearly hysterical laughter coming from behind him as he turned Sara around and started rolling her towards the front counter.

“Okay, no more questions out of you. Time to work.”

“Oh, come on! Tell me!”

“Work, Sara.”

The laughter behind them was finally dying off as he picked her up, easy as anything, and placed her behind the counter.

“Okay. Okay.” She held up her hands in defeat. “Time to work.” Peter nodded in satisfaction and turned to head towards his station.

“IronSpider is totally real.”

He whipped around to glare at a widely grinning Sara even as Monique and Diego started laughing again. Peter just shook his head with a sigh, turned, and kept walking.

 _Children. I hired actual children._ Even as he thought it, he couldn’t deny the smile on his face.

**Author's Note:**

> Poor Peter. I think I may have accidentally made him a bit of a dad/older brother, especially where Sara's concerned, but I'm kinda into it.  
> Let me know what you guys think about Monique, Diego, and Sara! Do ya'll wanna see more of them? I hope the answer is yes because I've already got vague ideas of other stories involving them. Do you wanna see them interact with Tony, meet the other Avengers, what?  
> Also, now you know why he's living in that apartment. He's stubborn and wants that loan paid off. Just a couple more months and he'll be done with it and ready to find somewhere else to live...  
> P.S. I definitely made Sara call him 'Chief' just so she can say 'This ain't it, Chief' and 'This is it, Chief'. Peter hates it which is at least half the reason she says it. No regrets.


End file.
